


You Just Had To Ask

by mamalovesherbagels



Series: Chimney Whump Central [3]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Bobby Nash Being a Dad, chimney is an anxious wreck, hen wants to help her best friend, some light cuddling ensues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:55:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24291667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalovesherbagels/pseuds/mamalovesherbagels
Summary: Companion piece to "Sick, Sort Of." The first time it happens, everyone is caught off guard and Bobby and Hen are racked with guilt. Set sometime between "dosed" and "merry ex-mas" in season 2.
Relationships: Howie "Chimney" Han & Bobby Nash, Howie "Chimney" Han & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson
Series: Chimney Whump Central [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726990
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	You Just Had To Ask

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is a companion piece to "Sick, Sort of" because I thought context would be needed before I add the second chapter with Bobby apologizing to Chimney, knowing what it's like for him to get that anxious. Sorry not sorry anxious Chimney is 100% canon in my mind.

He just wants the feeling to go away.

Anxiety, probably, is what you’re supposed to call it.

He’s never known how to handle it, so he chews gum as a form of constant fidgeting and then for the most part just ignores it and hopes it will go away.

That’s what he really is hoping for today, because he can just feel it building and building, a familiar pounding in his chest and uneasiness in his stomach. No, no, no, he really doesn’t want to lose it and puke or cry in front of the team.

Usually, most car accidents don’t get to him. They get called to a lot of them, it is LA after all, and since his life threatening car crash was… unique, to say the least, so a run of the mill just pry them out with the jaws of life and transport them to the hospital incident really isn’t that triggering for him.

But this one involved a cement truck. Just a cement truck, no rebar, but the association is enough to literally stop him in his tracks for a moment.

“You okay?” Eddie had asked, eyeing him curiously.

“Yeah, just tripped,” he had said, and Eddie buys it, probably because Eddie wasn’t there at the scene of his accident, didn’t even know him yet, and also because no one on the team really knows how much it still affects him. Bobby had set him up with some not-quite-mandated-but-strongly-encouraged counselling after he broke down in front of him when he had his little run in with Tatianna, and it had been helping, but Chimney doesn’t think what he went through is the kind of thing that ever completely goes away.

Still, after that brief stumble, he manages to keep it together at the scene, at least outwardly, and even though he’s having trouble keeping his breath even on the ride back to the station, he’s able to keep it discreet enough that none of his coworkers pick up on it.

And when they’re all sitting around while Bobby gets started on lunch, he just hides his hands that can’t stop shaking under the table. He’s maybe a little quieter than usual, but everyone’s in a good mood, laughing and joking around so it doesn’t really catch anyone’s attention.

“Well, spilled cement on the road is pretty rough, but at least there was no rebar involved,” Buck laughs, smirking over at Chimney and god damn it, he knew this was coming.

He can’t blame Buck, and he can’t blame his friends for laughing at it, because none of them really KNOW just how badly he’s struggling with the aftermath of his accident, and with anxiety in general, not even Bobby. Bobby was under the impression that he was doing much, much better and just had a rough time when Tatianna came back and reminded him of everything. Which is only, like, half of a lie.

“Yeah, yeah, funny, Buck,” he forces himself to say, fake smile plastered on his face.

“Glad everyone is okay,” Buck continues, “nothing stuck in their heads.”

“I gotta be honest, I still have trouble believing that’s a thing that actually happened,” Eddie chuckles, lightly punching Chim in the shoulder, and the older man jumps in his chair.

“Woah, hey, buddy, did I scare you?” Eddie asks, still laughing, just assuming he caught his friend off guard.

“Yeah,” he says, sounding breathy despite his best efforts.

“Ah, he’s fine, Eddie,” Hen giggles, “a little punch on the arm is nothing compared to a rebar through the--”

“Guys,” Bobby interrupts, having watched the color completely drain out of Chimney’s face and put together that he was not, in fact, okay with the topic of discussion.

But Bobby’s attempt at redirection is too late; Chimney feels his stomach flip in a way he’s all too familiar with when he’s really anxious, and he bolts off toward the restroom.

“...What just happened?” Buck asks quietly.

“I’ll go check on him,” Bobby says after a quiet moment, feeling terribly guilty for not asking Chimney if he was alright after the construction accident, “just don’t let any of the food burn, okay? It’s pasta, so it shouldn't be too hard.”

He knocks once on the bathroom door but wastes no time waiting for a response and opens it a second later. He had assumed Chimney had just wanted a private place to decompress, and was both surprised and horrified to find him arched over the toilet, puking his guts out.

“Chim,” he gasps, rushing over to him, “you’re alright, pal, you’re okay. I’m right here with you. You’re not in that car, okay? You’re not on the freeway.”

“B-bobby?” he croaks, his whole body trembling.

“It’s me, it’s just me,” he nods, getting up for a quick second to lock the door behind them, before kneeling down next to him again, rubbing circles on his back, “can you take a few deep breaths for me?”  
“Mmm,” is all Chimney gets out, shaking his head before being overcome with the need to retch again.

“Buddy, buddy,” Bobby finds himself saying, almost begging, “buddy, I know it’s hard but I need you to try. Take a deep breath with me, okay? You’re okay, I’ve got you, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

He just wordlessly whimpers at that, and Bobby is so desperate that he forcefully turns Chimney around to face him, not caring if it results in him getting puked on.

And naturally, it does.

“That’s okay,” he says kindly, “that’s okay, Chim. Just look at me, look at my eyes, okay? There you go, thank you, buddy.”

“Bobby,” he manages to breathe out, “Bobby.”

“That’s right,” he nods encouragingly, “I’m right here and so are you. Not in your car, no rebar, just you and me. You’re safe, Chimney. I’ve got you, I promise.”

“Here. Safe,” he pants, closing his eyes and trying to regain control of his breathing.

“Here, safe,” Bobby repeats back to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“I… god, Bobby, I don’t… I’m so sorry,” he rushes out, having calmed juuuuust enough to feel terribly, horribly embarrassed, futilely trying to wiggle out of Bobby’s embrace.

“No, no,” Bobby says calmly, holding him in place, “no apologies. You have nothing to be sorry for. I think I probably owe YOU an apology.”

“Me? What, why?”

“You’re not okay,” Bobby says after a pause, “you’re not. At all. For that to cause what just happened… you’re not okay, and we all missed it.”

“It’s fine,” he protests weakly, staring at the floor, “that just… it happens sometimes, okay? It’s not a big deal. Every now and then I just get really worked up and I end up spilling my guts.”

“So this has happened before?” Bobby asks, stomach dropping.

“I mean, it’s not always about the rebar incident,” he says uncomfortably, “it’s just… how my body reacts to stress, I guess. Not normal stress, just when I get REALLY stressed out. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine and neither are you. Chim, how often does this happen?”

“Not that often.”

“Be more specific,” Bobby commands in his captain voice, and Chimney sighs deeply.

“I don’t know, once every few months, I guess? I don’t exactly keep track.”

“Has it ever happened at the fire station before today?”

“...No.”

“Chimney.”

“Once or twice,” he whispers, fiddling with his hands.

“And you just didn’t say?”

“No, because I didn’t need to say anything. I was fine, it just… happens. It just happens sometimes, Bobby.”

“Since when? Since your accident?”

“Bobby, I don’t want to talk--”

“Chimney,” he says lovingly but sternly, “if you think I’m just going to leave you alone after something like this, then you don’t really know me at all. Tell me how long this has been going on.”

“Since before I met you,” he grumbles, crossing his arms indignantly, “but very rarely, like once in a blue moon, really… it’s been more common since my accident.”

“I see,” Bobby says solemnly, “I appreciate you telling me the truth.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.”

“I’m not here to punish you, I’m here to help,” he replies pointedly, “I don’t want to be afraid to talk to me, to let me know that you’re struggling just because I’m your captain. God knows I am not without my own problems. I’m not going to judge you or think you’re weak or rush to take you out of the field.”

“Okay,” is all he gets in response.

“...I’ll be right back,” Bobby says after a moment, “I’m going to get you a few things. And don’t even think about locking the door because I’m the captain and I have a key to every door in this place in my office.”

“God damn it,” Chimney groans under his breath, because yes, he was 100% planning on locking the bathroom door.

He can’t make out what they’re saying, but he can hear Bobby exchanging hushed words with his presumably concerned teammates and he shudders. All of this attention, this concern, is the exact opposite of what he wants.

“Hey, buddy,” Bobby calls softly, knocking before coming back into the bathroom, “I managed to hold Buck and Eddie off but your best friend really wanted to see you.”

Chimney knows this is code for “I intentionally brought Hen because I know you need right now” and decides to just not call Bobby on it.

“Hi,” he says quietly, the blush from embarrassment bringing back a smidge of color to his cheeks

“Hi, Chim,” she says softly, holding out a bottle of water for him, “how are you feeling?”

“Not too great,” he laughs darkly.

“Yeah, Bobby told me that you weren’t,” she smiles softly, sitting down next to him, “that and the puke on his shirt clued me in on that.”

“That was an accident,” Chimney groans, “sorry, Bobby.”

“Don’t worry about it, buddy,” he shakes his head, holding out a bottle of water for him, “here, small sips. I brought you some crackers, too.”

“Bobby, I’m not actually sick.”

“Don’t care, going to treat you like you are until I know you’re feeling all better.”

“Chim,” Hen sighs, hugging him, “I’m so, so sorry about earlier. I should’ve known, we all should’ve known.”

“Not your fault,” he says sincerely, “I never talk about it, most of the time I joke about it with you guys. It’s just… earlier, the cement truck…”

“It reminded you,” she nods, hugging him a bit tighter when he just completely leans all his weight into her, “but I want you to start talking to us about it, okay? We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

“It’s not a big--”

“It is a big deal to me. I’m your best friend and I never want you to feel like you have to hide it from me when you’re hurting.”

“You’re a good best friend,” he sighs, shifting to curl up with his head in her lap, which is both incredibly sweet and very concerning, because she’s his best friend in the entire world but he’s not normally cuddly with her.

“I got you, honey,” she sighs, “I got you, Chim. Going to stay right here with you as long as you need.”

“Don’t feel good,” he whines quietly.

“I know, I know. Are you going to throw up again?”

“No, just… tired. Exhausted. Nervous.”

“You can get plenty of rest tonight when you come home with me,” Bobby answers.

“Bobby--”

“I’m not letting you be alone tonight,” he says firmly, “you’re going to stay over at my place and let me keep an eye on you.”

“Bobby--”

“No arguing. You need to let us in, and that’s starting tonight. I have a very comfortable guest room and I’ll make you whatever you want for dinner and we’ll have lots of time to talk. Figure out how we’re going to get you feeling better.”

“I’m fine,” he protests halfheartedly.

“Suuuuure you are, Chim,” Hen says with an eye roll, running a hand through his hair.

“Mmm. Feels nice,” he purrs.

“Again, all you ever have to do is ask. You’re my best friend, Chim, one of the very few people on the planet I’ll willingly cuddle on the bathroom floor.”

“Thank you,” he chuckles lightly, “I just… I don’t know if I could move right now. Tired.”

“You don’t have to,” Bobby says sadly, “there’s backup coming to join the team on a call if the bell goes off. Hen and I are going to stay right here with you as long as you need.”

“Guys, you don’t have to--”

“We want to,” Hen insists, “we love you, Chimney, and right now you need us. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“But Bobby, you’re the captain.”

“And I’m very worried about one of my medics right now. He’s where my attention needs to be.”

“Just feel bad…”

“Don’t, not for one second,” Bobby insists, “there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be right now.”

“Really? There’s nowhere else you’d rather be than on the bathroom floor of the fire station, covered in my puke? I think Athena would be pretty offended if she heard you say that.”

“There he is,” Hen laughs.

“Athena knows how important my family is to me,” Bobby says seriously, but is unable to keep from cracking a smile, “she would understand why it’s so important for me to stay by your side right now.”

“I just… I’m sorry, guys,” he sighs, “I never meant for you two to see me like this. And Eddie and Buck, oh god… Buck.”

“Feels terrible,” Hen finishes for him, “and is extremely worried about you, and so is Eddie. Don’t worry about that, no one thinks of you as weaker or any less than we did before. We all just want to help and honestly? We all feel guilty for not seeing it earlier.”

“There was nothing to see.”

“Chimney,” Bobby all but groans, “Chimney, if you’re having this much trouble with anxiety, then yes, of COURSE there was something for us to see that we missed.”

“I hid it. Not your fault,” he whispers, turning his head over in Hen’s lap so he doesn’t have to look at them.

“Yeah, you and I are going to have a little talk about that later, buddy,” Bobby says dejectedly, “there’s no need to hide how you’re feeling from us. There’s no shame in needing help.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, sounding far from convinced.

“Chim, if the roles were reversed and it was me laying on the bathroom floor right now, you would have already bought five books on anxiety management to give me and have dragged my ass to therapy. Stop thinking about yourself in a way you would never think about anyone else.”

“I guess… I guess I probably do need help,” he admits, mostly muffled by Hen’s legs but her and Bobby can still hear it, just barely.

“There we go,” Bobby nods approvingly, saddened and relieved at the same time, “there you go, buddy. We’re going to get you that help, and we’re going to be there for you every step of the way.”

“Thanks,” he says weakly, “but… can i take a nap first?”

“...sure,” Bobby laughs, “just maybe not on the bathroom floor.”


End file.
